That's right, we have no oven. It was never really an issue before; I don't normally cook in the oven. I do like baking, but I don't have any measuring cups or a scale (which is what they use to measure ingredients here) so it was a moot point. Apparently it is unusual to lack an oven here, unlike Thailand and Mexico where I believe the lack of an oven is not unusual. Ironically the other two Americans that are here working in Algeciras don't have an oven either, but the Scottish girl does. Since we didn't want to impose on her, for Thanksgiving we had turkey cooked on the stove, rice stuffing on the stove, green bean casserole on the stove, and an "apple pie" of course cooked on the stove, along with more traditional, stove-friendly dishes. For dessert I contributed rice krispie treats, which were pink (the only kind of marshmallows I could find here have an outer pink layer) and made with frosted flakes (I never found normal rice krispies).
I took the rice krispie treats to the school as a thanksgiving treat for the teachers and they loved them. Most teachers approached the treats with caution, an unsure, concerned look on their faces. They searched for the smallest square to try, wary of these unknown pink squares. However, once they ate a square, they searched for the largest piece to eat for seconds. Some teachers didn't know what marshmallows were even in Spanish (nubes or esponjitas; I think they were called bonbones in Mexican Spanish). It was a lot of fun to see the teachers' amazement and enthusiasm for one our traditional desserts. Is there anything else I should make for them?
I also took some treats down to the school's cafeteria to the workers there, because one of them always brings various treats for the teachers to eat and I wanted to share and reciprocate his generosity. I've become friends with them and enjoy chatting in Spanish over a cup of coffee (yes I drink coffee now; it only took two cups of coffee that I drunk to be social with the teachers before I got addicted (well not quite addicted, but I do like it)) during free hours between lessons.
Back to thanksgiving. First I'd like to give you a bit of a background on my mini English speaking "family" in Spain. First of course there is Maria (who I've mentioned a few times before), my Spanish roommate who is from Jerez. Since she also works in Jerez on Fridays, she normally stays with her family and goes out with her friends there during the weekend. But I see her a lot during the week since we work at the religious school together. Then there is Erin, my American roommate from Colorado. She works with me at Kursaal. We have very very different personalities so sometimes it is interesting living and working together and having the same "family." Then there is Michelle, the girl from Scotland. She's really fun and we have a good time learning the differences between each other's English. For example:
Michelle: I want to make fairy cakes.
Me: what? what are fairy cakes?
Michelle: You know like muffins, but mini cakes.
Me: oh you mean cupcakes!
And for example in the UK they call cookies biscuits. To them a cookie is only a chocolate chip cookie. It gets really confusing sometimes and we can go on for a while, "well then what do you call this?" Oh and today I learned Christmas lights are called fairy lights. What’s their obsession with fairies?
Right, I get distracted easily. Then we have Michelle's roommate, Conchi, who is Spanish from Sevilla. She often goes back to Sevilla, but when she doesn't, she hangs out with us, because she's new to Algeciras too. She's an English teacher at Kursaal with us. Then lastly, the other two Americans, Rebecca and Crystal, who are here with the same program that Erin and I are. Rebecca (from Ohio) works at a colegio primaria (an elementary school) and also with Maria and me twice a week at the religious school. She's really outgoing and quite funny at times. Crystal (from Washington D.C.) works at the official school of languages, teaching adults, including some of the professors at my school who are learning English. She's really sweet, but sadly I don't see her as often as the others.
For thanksgiving we were all together (except Maria) plus one Spanish guy who doesn't know any English. It was fun for us three Americans to share our thanksgiving tradition with the three outsiders. It's very nice and comfortable to have a mini English speaking family here. Of course I miss all of you guys back there and I haven't really felt like any of the holidays have truly existed this year without all of you, but I think it would be a lot harder without them here. It's nice to have people who understand your culture and together we can all complain about the siesta and nothing being open on Sundays, but I still hope I can continue to branch out and meet more Spanish people. I'm making progress, poco a poco.
Two weeks ago a new teacher, Monica, arrived at our school (she's substituting for a few months for a teacher who's adopting a child from China). She's from Murcia, a small province in Spain that's between Andalucia and Valencia, and very far away from Algeciras. So she can't go back home and she's also a foreigner in this strange land that is Andalucia. She's very friendly. She doesn't really know English, but when she speaks in Spanish she's really expressive always using her hands to explain what she is saying. It's really helpful and very funny. She took us to the movies Friday, in Spanish of course, because in Spain they insist on dubbing everything into Spanish. We went out with her and some of her friends that came from Murcia and today she took us to Gibraltar with them. I wish she were staying the whole time I'm here; she's so fun to talk with.
I've also found some people (well just guys) I can play soccer with. Here it is more unusual for girls to play soccer, but I won't let that stop me. Apparently the guys in the cafeteria already heard that I was going to play and were asking me about it (I think they were a bit surprised). I was going to start playing on Thursday, but since it was Thanksgiving I'll play this week. I know already that I will have two cheerleaders, Michelle and Monica, coming to watch. I can't wait till I get to play.
Well until next time. I apologize for the excessive use of parentheses, but I actually reread through my entry this time before posting. Let me know what you want to know about Spain or my life here.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Arab Andalucia
As you’ve already realized I’m really bad at this bloging thing. I guess I prefer other forms of communication where I get responses to what I’ve written. *hint you can leave me comments on my blog. Not that I’m promising anything even then. I wanted to write another blog entry for you, but I wasn’t sure what to write about. I guess almost every weekend that I’ve been here in Algeciras I’ve at least gone on a day trip to another city close by. I’ve been able to compare Algeciras with some of the rest of Andalucia. Orquidea thinks that Algeciras is not Spanish. Of course when she was here visiting me I did keep on dragging her through what is for me the most interesting part of Andalucia, the Moroccan part. Just past the outdoors Market you enter an area with an entirely different rhythm. Here you can find Moroccan butchers, also selling tea, couscous, other stuff unknown to me, and most importantly spices! Some Spanish food is excellent, but most of what I’ve had lacks any sort of spices. I bought some at one of the stores; and Orquidea had a good laugh because neither I, nor the Moroccan man, could understand each other’s Spanish.
Anyways as you wander through the winding streets which I assume make up the oldest part of Algeciras you can encounter men dressed in traditional long robes and these slipper-like shoes. In one shop that I poked my head into I saw an old man dressed so with a long, wispy white beard. Of course in this part of town Orquid and I were “chased” by a crazy old man. He was behind us shouting about demons and being possessed, although Orquidea decided not to translate this until we had lost him. I don’t think he was really chasing us, but we kept walking faster and faster away from him and he kept going in the same direction as us. I might have to agree with Brian, that Algeciras has a bit of a rough side. The stares that I get in that part feel quite a bit different than the stares in the rest of Spain.
Morocco isn’t isolated to just one part of Algeciras. Close to my apartment there is a, well it’s not exactly a resturant nor street food, I guess it’s closest to fast food, Moroccan style. They sell this wonderfully spiced chicken wrapped up in tortilla-like things and filled with all sorts of vegetables, from onions to carrots to beets. They are really delicious. The place is only open at night and seems to draw lots of Spanish teenagers looking for their cheap, late-night dinner, but during the day the garage-like door is often cracked and Moroccan music and the most delicious smells leak out in the Spanish world.
When I went to visit Orquidea last weekend we went to a teteria, a tea shop. When she first moved in there we both noticed the place, decorated with the unique pointed Arab arches and deep, rich colors. It is so obviously Arab, that I thought it might be purely a place catering to tourists. We sat down inside and it might have only been 10pm (which is early for Spanish people) so there was only one group of people sitting down. One man was playing a violin, but instead of resting it on his shoulder, as I was taught, he played it almost like a cello, resting it on his knee. The rest of the men accompanied him clamping their hands and singing. Orquidea normally hears this music every weekend evening inside her apartment. Other people, almost all men, started to fill up the place, some ordered tea, others smoked Hookah. At one point Orquidea looked around and realized that besides the other women who were Spanish, we were the only others who were not Arab. She said that she felt really uncomfortable there; not that I didn’t, but I have this feeling in most of Spain. I really stand out down here.
In many of the other cities that we have visited there have been remains of Arab architecture from the time when Andalucia was under Muslim rule during the Middle Ages. On the way home from visiting Orquidea last weekend we stopped off in Malaga just planning to wander the city a bit and see if we liked it any better than the one night that we spent there before. Luckily this time we actually had a map to follow. I decided that I wanted to try to find the Alcazaba; I wasn’t sure what it was, but it looked kind of like a castle on the map and as Orquidea well knows, I rather like to go to the castles (unfortunately for her this often entails climbing a lot of hills, because unfortunately castles are normally built on the highest ground). Since we had no idea what the Alcazaba was, we weren’t really expecting much. When we found it, we weren’t sure we would even enter, because I only have enough money to buy my ticket back to Algeciras (we hadn’t be paid at that time, but thankfully that problem is remedied now). Luckily for us on Sunday afternoons it is free. We soon found out that Alcazaba is the Arabic word for fortress, and this particular fortress in Malaga was built near the site of an ancient Roman site. The builders took elements of the Roman ruins and integrated them into their own architecture. For example some of the traditional Arab arches incorporate the roman columns. It is really a bit weird to see. Besides this unique aspect, the fortress is the biggest Arab building Orquid and I have yet been to. Much of the outer walls are still intact, as well as the inner rooms, and beautiful courtyard gardens. I’m sure it can’t compare to the Alhambra in Granada, but in the meantime I’m enjoying the other Arab influences scattered about Spain.
Anyways as you wander through the winding streets which I assume make up the oldest part of Algeciras you can encounter men dressed in traditional long robes and these slipper-like shoes. In one shop that I poked my head into I saw an old man dressed so with a long, wispy white beard. Of course in this part of town Orquid and I were “chased” by a crazy old man. He was behind us shouting about demons and being possessed, although Orquidea decided not to translate this until we had lost him. I don’t think he was really chasing us, but we kept walking faster and faster away from him and he kept going in the same direction as us. I might have to agree with Brian, that Algeciras has a bit of a rough side. The stares that I get in that part feel quite a bit different than the stares in the rest of Spain.
Morocco isn’t isolated to just one part of Algeciras. Close to my apartment there is a, well it’s not exactly a resturant nor street food, I guess it’s closest to fast food, Moroccan style. They sell this wonderfully spiced chicken wrapped up in tortilla-like things and filled with all sorts of vegetables, from onions to carrots to beets. They are really delicious. The place is only open at night and seems to draw lots of Spanish teenagers looking for their cheap, late-night dinner, but during the day the garage-like door is often cracked and Moroccan music and the most delicious smells leak out in the Spanish world.
When I went to visit Orquidea last weekend we went to a teteria, a tea shop. When she first moved in there we both noticed the place, decorated with the unique pointed Arab arches and deep, rich colors. It is so obviously Arab, that I thought it might be purely a place catering to tourists. We sat down inside and it might have only been 10pm (which is early for Spanish people) so there was only one group of people sitting down. One man was playing a violin, but instead of resting it on his shoulder, as I was taught, he played it almost like a cello, resting it on his knee. The rest of the men accompanied him clamping their hands and singing. Orquidea normally hears this music every weekend evening inside her apartment. Other people, almost all men, started to fill up the place, some ordered tea, others smoked Hookah. At one point Orquidea looked around and realized that besides the other women who were Spanish, we were the only others who were not Arab. She said that she felt really uncomfortable there; not that I didn’t, but I have this feeling in most of Spain. I really stand out down here.
In many of the other cities that we have visited there have been remains of Arab architecture from the time when Andalucia was under Muslim rule during the Middle Ages. On the way home from visiting Orquidea last weekend we stopped off in Malaga just planning to wander the city a bit and see if we liked it any better than the one night that we spent there before. Luckily this time we actually had a map to follow. I decided that I wanted to try to find the Alcazaba; I wasn’t sure what it was, but it looked kind of like a castle on the map and as Orquidea well knows, I rather like to go to the castles (unfortunately for her this often entails climbing a lot of hills, because unfortunately castles are normally built on the highest ground). Since we had no idea what the Alcazaba was, we weren’t really expecting much. When we found it, we weren’t sure we would even enter, because I only have enough money to buy my ticket back to Algeciras (we hadn’t be paid at that time, but thankfully that problem is remedied now). Luckily for us on Sunday afternoons it is free. We soon found out that Alcazaba is the Arabic word for fortress, and this particular fortress in Malaga was built near the site of an ancient Roman site. The builders took elements of the Roman ruins and integrated them into their own architecture. For example some of the traditional Arab arches incorporate the roman columns. It is really a bit weird to see. Besides this unique aspect, the fortress is the biggest Arab building Orquid and I have yet been to. Much of the outer walls are still intact, as well as the inner rooms, and beautiful courtyard gardens. I’m sure it can’t compare to the Alhambra in Granada, but in the meantime I’m enjoying the other Arab influences scattered about Spain.
Friday, November 9, 2007
El Colegio Kursaal
I have twelve hours a week at Kursaal as una auxiliare de conversacion. I spend three hours a week in 3 different 10th grade classes. The kids are separated into the different classes according to their level. The lowest level only has 8 students in it. In Spain, students are only required to finish 10th grade to finish secondary school. If they wish, if they want to go on to university, they can continue to study two more years. I also go to one class of primero de bachillerato (11th grade) once a week. I’m never supposed to be in these classes alone and I don’t even completely take over the class either. Although the teacher I work with in primero de bachillerato normally tells me ok, the class is yours, which really took me off guard at first. Of course, not as much as when I showed up to class on Monday morning and found out that Christian (the teacher) wasn’t there. Bear with me while I switch to Spanish for a second.
I ask the strange teacher who was in the classroom: “Donde esta Christian?”
“Esta enfermo.”
Um…well, “Normalmente estoy en clase con el.”
“Cuanto tiempo?”
“Todo el clase.”
“Entonces, adiós. Estaré en la sala de profesores si me necesitas”
uh….
Thankfully I had a whole lesson plan worked out and had done it with some of the other classes. The students were only a bit more naughty alone with me, than when Christian is there. But I had never realized how much difficulty many of them have understanding me. I was explaining the activity and I was getting a lot of blank faces, so I asked “Do you understand what I am saying?” and I still only got blank faces. I wasn’t sure what do to if they can’t understand that. They aren’t used to having to listen to English and many of them don’t really want to concentrate enough to understand I think. Also they are used to British English. But I was able to make one student understand me by repeating and talking really really slowly. I did catch one student saying ….aburrido.
I also have 3 hours spread out over the week to practice English with the professors who are learning English. It’s interesting to talk with the different professors and get to know them a bit better. Many of the professors are from lots of different places in Spain. I think in general many teachers don’t have an option of where they work. Many people live and work in Algeciras during the week, but go back to their hometown every weekend, including my Spanish roommate Maria.
I also work with teachers who will be teaching part of their classes in English next year. I’m working with Ciencias Naturales, Informatica, and Educacion Fisica. Thirty percent of the entire course is required to be in English. So for example in Biology, the book I’ve seen teaches concepts to students in English and Spanish. Most of the activities use a combination of directions and questions in English and Spanish. I’m really curious about how this will work next year. First of all most of the professors who will be teaching these classes are still not very good at English, and of course secondly neither are the kids. I’m sure some kids are going to be somewhat resistant to having to learn the concepts in English as well.
I ask the strange teacher who was in the classroom: “Donde esta Christian?”
“Esta enfermo.”
Um…well, “Normalmente estoy en clase con el.”
“Cuanto tiempo?”
“Todo el clase.”
“Entonces, adiós. Estaré en la sala de profesores si me necesitas”
uh….
Thankfully I had a whole lesson plan worked out and had done it with some of the other classes. The students were only a bit more naughty alone with me, than when Christian is there. But I had never realized how much difficulty many of them have understanding me. I was explaining the activity and I was getting a lot of blank faces, so I asked “Do you understand what I am saying?” and I still only got blank faces. I wasn’t sure what do to if they can’t understand that. They aren’t used to having to listen to English and many of them don’t really want to concentrate enough to understand I think. Also they are used to British English. But I was able to make one student understand me by repeating and talking really really slowly. I did catch one student saying ….aburrido.
I also have 3 hours spread out over the week to practice English with the professors who are learning English. It’s interesting to talk with the different professors and get to know them a bit better. Many of the professors are from lots of different places in Spain. I think in general many teachers don’t have an option of where they work. Many people live and work in Algeciras during the week, but go back to their hometown every weekend, including my Spanish roommate Maria.
I also work with teachers who will be teaching part of their classes in English next year. I’m working with Ciencias Naturales, Informatica, and Educacion Fisica. Thirty percent of the entire course is required to be in English. So for example in Biology, the book I’ve seen teaches concepts to students in English and Spanish. Most of the activities use a combination of directions and questions in English and Spanish. I’m really curious about how this will work next year. First of all most of the professors who will be teaching these classes are still not very good at English, and of course secondly neither are the kids. I’m sure some kids are going to be somewhat resistant to having to learn the concepts in English as well.
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